


Epic Love Note to the MGIT

by Heldpeach



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gore, Gun Violence, Haven (Dragon Age), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Music, Modern Boy in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, One Shot, Sorry Not Sorry, Swearing, Swearing in Spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 11:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19316866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heldpeach/pseuds/Heldpeach
Summary: Follow several different original characters, and their experiences, as Haven is attacked.Many have asked, what would happen if someone fell into Thedas? A few have asked what if a dozen or more arrived. I bring you another escalation of that question.What would happen if a LOT more, fed up, survivors, from a Post Apocalyptic Earth, arrived fully armed, and prepared to do whatever it takes to carve out a new life? Including, but not limited to, full on infiltration of the Inquisition? What if every single one of them was a fan of the Franchise, with a united goal: Be the change you want to see before someone takes away that choice. Canon be damned.





	Epic Love Note to the MGIT

**Author's Note:**

> *** Added an Illustration at the bottom. I was inspired ... also now set to public. Again why did NO ONE say it wasn't showing up.***
> 
> Here is the link to my new Tumblr for the higher resolution verson. Still blurry compared to my original but I'll search for an alternative.  
> https://lunadys.tumblr.com/post/185905738051/inspired-by-my-oneshot-i-present-ella-and-brandon
> 
> So I was listening to a song, which is included in this fiction, (actually this has 3 songs) and this popped into my head unbidden. It asked, nay, it DEMANDED to be written. Like ... right now. So I have spent the last 3 days penning, editing, and planning this wonderful, sleep deprived, masterpiece. Deny my impulses??? Madness.
> 
> As with all of my fics, listening to the music isn't needed to enjoy the work. However, I do spend a lot of time trying to pace it to match. Of course everyone reads at different speeds so ... eh. Your choice.
> 
> On another note I inked and finalized a beautiful sketch of Luna (Bad Moon Rising/Blood Moon's Shadow) that Vantastrophe sent me a while back. I will be posting it with her permission, hopefully later today. My computer, and namely photoshop, is back in working order!!! Prepare for art! Muahaha.

“Who are you,” the purple clad Spymaster hissed. It figured he was brought straight to HER. “You were spotted skulking, spying, around Haven’s perimeter. You ran when confronted. Running,” Leliana spoke quietly, as she circled him. “... implies guilt.” He was a lithe blonde man, hair shorn short, athletic, and currently kneeling ignominiously in the dirt at her feet. Drab brown leathers, no insignias; nothing to hint where he might be from. Nothing about the way he was dressed implied the truth. That he didn’t belong here.

He shook his head, gritting his teeth, and trying to keep from making even the smallest utterance. It was a simple goal and ultimately accomplished very little but he clung to it stubbornly. Brandon would not be remembered as the weak link in this venture. The others were counting on his silence. Getting caught had been _his_ mistake, and he alone would bear the consequences of his blunder. Sure, Leliana was intimidating, but there was too much at stake. Besides … if they had wanted him dead then he would already _be_ dead. He hoped.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” The Herald and Leliana were not in agreement about how to continue this interrogation. Just as Brandon had suspected. The Herald didn’t have to stomach for this kind of thing. He tried to keep seemingly still … steadied his breathing. In actuality he had already made sure his bindings were loose before being thrown in here. It was all in how you held your wrists when taken into custody; nothing to give away what he was really thinking or his intentions.

“He injured three of my men,” she growled. “Good Agents.”

“But he killed no one,” The Herald countered.

The Nightingale was nattering on about something but in all honesty he had stopped listening. He had larger concerns. Big picture type of concerns. End of the world stuff. He pretended to listen though. Anything to buy himself some more time. That was the one thing he no longer took for granted. They’d all suffered a certain amount of culture shock in the beginning. Adapting to a largely agrarian and feudal society in the last three years had proved … interesting to say the least. Personally he had welcomed the slow crawl of life in Thedas after what they’d all been through.

“Answer the question!” She struck him, hard enough that his head whipped back. He was more startled by the cold fury in her tone than the physical blow. Leliana was a killer and in that moment he could _hear_ it. She hit him again for good measure and would have again if the Herald had not intervened.

Brandon’s eye swelled shut. He had to hand it to the Nightingale. That woman was much stronger than she appeared to be. The Herald seemed increasingly uncomfortable with the violence and it occurred to him just how young the elf still was. Despite the harsh treatment Brandon said nothing, uttered not a sound, and simply gave his captors a dispassionate stare. He felt oddly calm. He understood them. In fact he didn’t blame them for his situation. If anything he was sorry to have put them in such a position. Maybe the others were right … he had _issues_.

Then again. It was only pain. Pain was an old friend. He had seen more than enough death that even hardened members of the Inquisition would probably lose their lunches to just hear of it. A few love taps from the Spymaster was not going to shake his resolve. He’d been through worse. Brandon had one job now that he had been caught. Say. _Nothing_. No matter what happened.

He had learned patience and self control out of necessity. The previous five years had taught him many harsh lessons. His comfy apartment building had become a living hell in moments when the Breach had first blown open above his home city. Through all the confusion, and the struggle to survive sudden doomsday, they had all learned to cope. Chaos reigned in the streets. Was it an attack by a foriegn government? Was it terrorists? Had there been an accident? Was it a nuke? Were they going to die from radiation poisoning? You adapted quickly, or you died, there was no in between. Nothing in his comfortable urban existence had prepared him for what had been unleashed on Earth that day. He was just a glorified secretary before all this for Christ’s sake.

Until he started to recognize the nightmares that stalked him in the streets; something his rational mind kept telling him was impossible. Video game monsters didn't, couldn’t, exist in real life! Then he had looked up into a sky lit by vibrant green, with dawning realization, and crazy as it was he’d accepted the truth of it. He encountered his first active Rift roughly a year and a half later … and he chose to step through it. What was the alternative? Scrounging for food in an apocalyptic wasteland while the remnants of humanity preyed on one another to survive? He’d been willing to risk it _all_ in the hopes of a better future. He was willing to die to make it happen. They all were. Everyone else had been left behind to rot for all he cared.

“You were caught trying to dispose of _this_ -” Leliana slammed his rifle onto the nearby table, jolting him from his thoughts, and Brandon flinched. At least the safety was still on. He knew the Nightingale had seen his reaction. “You fear it. It is plainly some sort of weapon. Who sent you?”

The Herald knelt down on one knee beside him, placing a glowing hand on his shoulder. It hummed … or buzzed, like standing too close to an old television. “You don’t seem like an assassin.” Brandon met his soft brown eyes with his own sympathy. He could see that it confused the poor elf but it lightened his mood somewhat. Given the circumstances …

Unfortunately for them ‘good cop - bad cop’ was the oldest trick in the book. Of course _Brandon,_ and his allies, were 'reading' from a glorified player’s handbook, penned in another world … and it came with the cheat codes. “One answer couldn’t hurt. Please?” The Herald’s heartfelt request did nothing to move Brandon and the guard was given a nod by the Nightingale. He forced the bound man to stand only to immediately gut punch him. He lost the battle with his stomach and collapsed next to his own sick.

Brandon looked up from the ground to glare murderously at the man that had hit him. He would never forget that smug face. It had been hard enough that not only could he not breathe for an agonizing period, but when his lungs started to work again he could only painfully gag. His eyes watered but his choked gasping only seemed to annoy Leliana. Acid had burned his throat and he spit up another mouthful with a hacking cough. This was it. This was how Brandon was going to die. Beaten to death by people he admired but could say _nothing_ to. Not yet. Stick to the plan.

The celebration outside of the small tent was growing louder. He knew … any moment now, that the cheering would irrevocably change. Soon the outpouring of joy would sour into terror. Brandon wasn’t sure where he would be in this scenario. Certainly not at his assigned post. Would he be trapped in a cell beneath the Chantry? Would he lay here, cooling in a pool of his own blood and vomit when they wrongly assumed he was with the enemy? Protocol said he should be left to whatever fate awaited him. They had all _agreed_ , voted, that the mission came first … and he accepted that.

“Perhaps now you will-” Whatever the Nightingale intended to say was cut short.

The Inquisition raised an alarm and the cacophony he’d been waiting for finally started. Corypheus’ army had been spotted and he was left to the guard’s mercy as the two officers ran outside to meet with Commander Cullen. The guard was wary of him but he stood anyway, stretching out his neck, and shoulders. The cheers outside had given way to shouts of distress and panic.

“Sit DOWN prisoner,” the guard threatened. Brandon ignored him and stared down at the rifle. He needed to destroy or damage it. The risk of someone managing to reverse engineer it in the future was not something he wanted on his conscience.

[ Black Betty ](https://open.spotify.com/track/14b07Oyy41Y243WaJJivSO?si=ZHsSqcKtTOOxAjR_2-riVA) \- Larkin Poe

That’s when the rumbling started. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. Though the guard reacted with confusion Brandon felt a sudden rush of relief. ELLA. It had to be Ella. That wonderful idiot was breaking the rules. The unmistakable roar of an engine grew steadily louder, and just as it sounded as if it might plow directly into them, he heard her scream his name. “BRANDON!!!!!”

He reacted immediately, slipped his ropes and knocked the guard off his feet, he grabbed the rifle, and sprinted out the flaps of the tent before the man could recover. Taking a step back, right as the four wheeler nearly clipped him, he threw himself behind his friend. Grabbing onto her waist he clung for dear life as the engine roared again and sent them hurtling down the stairs. “You crazy FUCKER! There’s nowhere to GO!” Nearby soldiers were gathering to stop them as orders were yelled. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely focus on anything.

She ignored him of course, speeding up to careen around a bend and toward the line of trebuchets. Drunk civilians and startled bystanders dove out of the way of the oncoming machine. He laughed when he finally spotted their destination. A simple ramp of wooden boards had recently been erected over a lower section of the wall. Ella sped up, dirt and debris kicked up behind them, as they flew up and over.

“WhooHOooO,” she cried in exhilaration. He screamed like a little bitch. She was never going to let that go and he knew it.

His stomach dropped as they were suddenly airborne and when the jarring landing came his teeth clacked together. She didn’t slow down even as snow and mud sprayed around them leaving an obvious trail. He couldn’t believe their luck. No one seemed to be attacking them.

The Inquisition had a clear view of them but they were soon well beyond the range of their bows. Their cover was blown but he knew Ella wasn’t just going to have them sit out the coming battle. Besides which it was only a few more minutes before they were supposed to reveal themselves anyway. Sure enough she threw him a cheshire grin, and aimed the vehicle straight for the line of oncoming Templars. They stopped on top of the ridge and waited like a painted target. Anything beyond this point would put them in danger of being buried by the inevitable avalanche.

It was time to put their money where their mouths were. They would have to explain themselves after … if they survived. Brandon fished in the packs strapped to the four wheeler and pulled out an ammunition belt. Donning it quickly he tossed her a box of shells. She caught the box without a backward glance. Ella had already readied her double barreled shotgun and had been driving with it across the bars. He loaded the hunting rifle and raised it. Taking aim he took grim satisfaction when he blew off his target's head. One shot. One kill.

The forward forces turned to meet them. He thought he’d been prepared for how grotesque they would appear. He’d been wrong. They had firmly gained the attention of some of the most psychotic junkies in history. Adding magic into the mix always complicated things. Ella revved the engine and swerved to race along the hill to meet them. Brandon did his best to reload and took another potshot, clipping one of the big ones in the shoulder.

“SHIT,” he tried to keep his hands steady, but they shook with the rush of adrenaline. The behemoth charged them, quickly leaving his brethren behind, while he fumbled with his ammo. Ella was quicker to react, swinging up her shotgun as it neared point blank range, and pulling without hesitation. Red crystal shattered, along with what had once been a man’s face, and it crumpled not two feet from them.

“BRING IT FUCKERS,” Ella yelled and blew away another as soon as he came in range. “Head in the game Brand!” Exhaling sharply he finally managed to reload … but not quickly enough. One had managed to get behind them and as he brought his weapon to bear he was sure this was it. A loud bang shot out across the valley and the Templar’s head simply ceased to exist. Brain matter, bone, and blood scattered the snow around them and he howled in appreciation. Quickly reloading they took off again to draw the nearest mob of crazed Templars. Shots soon rang out from what seemed like every possible direction. Brandon cursed the fact he’d lost his comm and just prayed everything played out right.

*******

Taking a deep breath, she gently placed the comm in her ear for the first time in three long years, and awaited the final order. Carol watched from her position on the wall with a small smirk as she ‘failed’ to subdue the reckless pair. She knew Shannon and George would sport similar expressions.

They had all heard of Brandon’s capture and had been frantic that their hands were tied. None of them would have made it to Thedas in the first place if he hadn’t suggested this mad venture. Having secured rank within the Inquisition they were loathe to give themselves away just yet … especially on the very cusp of their plans kicking off. Steve had been forced to physically hold a number of their units back when the news made its way through the grapevine. They were lucky to have secured a barracks of their own or the incident may have snowballed.

She was relieved that Ella was such a hothead in this instance. The red head was nothing if not loyal but she was also the only one with the balls to break protocol. No one would blame her for saving him. Luckily their roles weren’t the lynchpin of the operation, by design, and judging by their trajectory they would still manage to pull off quite a bit of carnage. They would adapt. Carol glanced up at the roof of the Chantry for a moment to make sure their fearless leader was still up there. She saw nothing of course. Gina was too sly to be caught out so obviously.

All hell was about to break loose in Thedas and her blood was pumping wildly in anticipation. It was about damn time.

[ I’m Always Walking as Somebody Else ](https://open.spotify.com/track/59dqs7NS1BehUGSBTRGOnv?si=qV9VFdxFTy2MK4bosFdfbQ) \- American Murder Song

***Sniper Team Blue. Red. Green. Engage in 1 … 2 …***

Carol ignored the startled shouts of her subordinates and charged forward to throw the snow covered cloth off her cleverly hidden weapon. She knew twenty-nine others did the same at the exact moment. The M24 was in pristine condition. She had kept it that way all these years. Shouldering it was second nature as she slammed the legs across the palisade. God bless her military training.

"Carol what is that?!" Marian sounded upset, but she knew the mousy woman trusted her and wouldn't interfere.

She sighted her first target in less than a breath; which she immediately held. Brandon and Ella would need all the help they could get and she chose a Templar nearest to the insane pair. They had already taken the first shots of the coming storm. Something about her bearing must have clued the woman into the gravity of the situation because she abruptly stopped asking questions.

***3! Fire at will! I repeat FIRE AT WILL!***

The Templar came into her comfortable range, about 755 meters, and she calmly depressed the trigger. She reveled in the familiar kick of the firearm and the creature dropped like a stone. The two escapees were also firing, the distinct blasts from a rifle, and shotgun, echoing off the mountains. She had forgotten how loud and jarring modern weaponry could be. God she had missed this.

"Holy SHIT!" Glancing at Marina as she chambered the next round Carol saw she'd covered her ears, but was staring dumbfounded at the fallen target.

"Hold the wall hun. I can't shoot them all," she finally answered. Another shot rang out from a nearby cliff, then a dozen more, then a dozen after that. All from different elevations across Haven. Each wave saw their victims falling to the frozen ground, or lurching back from an obvious impact. "But we have back up." Marina nocked her first arrow, shaken, but too well trained to disobey her superior. She was an excellent shot and was soon absorbed in defending her home. Exactly what the Earthers had been counting on. Carol fired again and down went another Red Templar. Despite the awesome show of force the enemy was numerous and they were gaining tremendous ground, tramping over their fallen comrades.

The battle mages finally joined in. Apostates really. Earther trained. It hadn’t been much of a shock that a number of them manifested the ability when they arrived. Luckily they had years to prepare for this encounter. A synchronous volley of fire rained down on specific targets. It was deadly efficient and downright scary. Part of her would always wish she had been one of those special trainees.

The Earth Mages changed tactics depending on the enemy in question. Carol didn’t know the man in charge personally but she had heard he was a hard ass. Apparently his attitude was the perfect way to whip a bunch of aging, out of shape, civvies into a force to be reckoned with. It helped to know the vulnerabilities of what you were fighting of course.

Lightning, Ice, and pure force exploded across the battlefield. Then terrifyingly the recently slain enemies rose again to turn on their fellows. Carol shuddered at the sight of the lurching zombies and tried to ignore the turning in her stomach. It was awesome but she had always had a thing about them. More of the Templar’s lead forces had broken through the hail of gunfire. She took solace in knowing that less of the good guys were dead than should have been.

***We’ve spotted Cole. Repeat. Confirmed Sighting of Player #4. Lay down covering fire! Get him to the gate!***

Carol scanned the chaos and finally caught sight of the elusive spirit. He seemed to be faring quite well on his own. Distracting as his finesse was she had a job to do, and turned her weapon to anything in his path. The Templars in his trajectory were being mowed down mercilessly by magic and gunfire and she smiled when Cole shyly saluted her. She wondered if he had let them see him. Aiming again Carol returned to taking out the next nearest target. There was something exhilarating about firing a gun that she would never tire of. She tried not to think too much.

She wasn’t sure how long she continued like that. Her focus narrowed to her own little corner of hell. Fire, rechamber, fire, acquire target, fire, reload, lose the target, reacquire … it was like juggling geese. No time to breathe, no time to think, barely time to yell orders to the Inquisition under her command. “Maker’s left testicle! Keep them off the damned WALL! Gavin reinforce the left. THE LEFT. Your other left!”

Then it happened. The bulk of the enemy was in the hot zone and she glanced toward the nearby Trebuchet in sudden panic. They’d already aimed the damn thing for them. What was taking so long? Had they fucked something up? Was the Herald there? If he hadn’t made it was plan B underway? She let out a terrific cheer when the wooden monstrosity finally fired, hurling its payload into the mountain with a thundering crash. Carol didn’t care who’d managed to fire the thing. It was done and the avalanche slammed into the enemy, plowing them under layers of ice, rock, and snow. Her heart dropped when she couldn’t seem to find Ella or Brandon. She pressed her eye firmly to her night-vision scope and scanned for them. There. They were alive!

[ Wonderful life ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ceW5TkemJUEmJERavfqQq?si=0mA25oCCR0uQwZ9zrdKjrg)\- Bring Me the Horizon, Dani Filth

The wave of snow had blanketed the oncoming army. There is cheering all around, but Carol cursed as too many Templars sprung up like fresh fucking daisies. There was a commotion down in the main square. Accusations of treason and threats of execution were thrown out like candy. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the voice of one Chancellor Roderick. She was still of the mind that they should have assassinated him from the start. A lone voice rang out, calling for reason, and mercy. She’d recognize that lilting speech pattern anywhere.

“Everything lost. Cities and countries burned to ash. Home a distant memory. One path. Two worlds. The Elder one must die. They only want to help! Let them help!” Cole was urging people to trust them. She wasn’t sure it would do any good. It was a risk they had all agreed to take.

 ***Ground team Alpha! CHARGE!! Beta stand in reserve! Repeat beta await my signal! Do not engage until they reach the lake!*** Gina sounded like she’d been made for this.

That's when around two hundred pissed off, armed, Earthlings charged from seemingly nowhere. Some twenty of them were on dirtbikes. Another handful were on four wheelers like Ella. The deafening roar of the engines combined with feral sounding men and women shook her bones. Carol snickered when she picked out the distinctly frazzled sounding Spanish cursing; pitched louder than most of the battle cries. She peered through the scope to find the source. Guarding her was Carol’s next priority. Rebekah was their insurance policy. She would hang back, emerging dead last from the hidden bunkers. Cussing up a damn storm in Spanish, she was hauling what looked like a small trailer behind her armored four wheeler. They’d spent a good deal of time decking the thing out. Jacob would be riding shotgun for her.

 _ **“¿De quién fue esta idea estúpida?!”** _Even as she bellowed her complaints the dark haired woman, and her entourage charged, not toward the enemy, but back up the mountain they had emerged from.

Carol was so focused on her amusement at Rebekah’s antics that she failed to notice the incoming blow. She stared down in shock at the ruined meat dangling off the bones of her forearm. She wasn’t sure how the monster had managed to crawl up behind them without somebody noticing. Screaming in rage she pulled out her glock with her good hand and tried to fire but he knocked her off her feet. Shaking from the pain of several broken bones and what was probably shock she was sure she was beyond saving. She watched, partially chagrined, but mostly proud as Marian retrieved the fallen gun and managed to fire it. The first shot went wide, but the determined woman soon unloaded the entire clip into the beast. She screamed the entire time.

"Hold … the wall. Protect Haven …. greenie…" She couldn’t feel her limbs, and watched with a sort of detachment as Marian fashioned a tourniquet around her arm. Carol still remembered when she taught the young farm girl the technique. She'd be all right. Everything was just as she was trained even as she barely kept it together. Marian would be a great soldier one day. She numbly swallowed the spare potion the recruit forced on her. It tasted like pennies and juniper. Carol hated juniper.

Passing out from blood loss, the last thing she heard, were the desperate cries of her trainee calling, “Medic!??! MEEEDDDIIICCC!!!!!”

 _  
_ *****

**_*We couldn’t hide it out in the open and you know it!*_ **

Though she's at the back the Templars seem to sense that she needs to be taken down. Maybe because her vehicle is different. Maybe because there is a concentrated defense around her. Either way they beeline it for her. Rebekah was trying to reach the top of the hill. Earthers on motorbikes, atvs, and on foot all came charging out of camouflaged tunnels dug into the nearby mountains. The roar of technology was fucking deafening. Jacob took a hit for her, falling by the wayside, and she bit her lip as she flipped her M16 to full automatic and eliminated a swath of her opposition. She didn’t stop for him. She couldn’t afford to. He was on his own.

Her brothers and sisters were throwing themselves between her and anything intent on killing her. She knew that many of them were already dead. Still she charged upward, wiping the tears streaming down her face so she could see. She screeched in horror as she ran straight over a Templar that jumped directly in front of her and nearly caused her to wreck. Dodging the mayem she noticed she was bleeding from the head. This was fucking insanity! The only thing keeping her going was the knowledge that if she failed, more of them would die today.

***Get up there NOW!***

She pressed the comm in her ear and screamed, " ** _Pinche culero_ **! What the fuck do you think I’m doing?!" She swerved around a boulder and took the path up to the cliff range with grim determination.

***Keep the comm clear Bekka! Cuss me out later! Delta! Support asset #1 immediately!***

"Eat a bag of DICKS!" Rebekah was not in a forgiving mood. Jacob was GONE. Shelly had a gaping chest wound. Vincent had his head torn clean off. The tears came faster and she screamed at the world. Unloading the last of her magazine into another one of the huge bastards she slammed another home with practiced ease. Her small arms aim was shit but that’s why they gave her something she could use by spraying and praying. Another one jumped in front of her, this time forcing her vehicle to a complete stop. She shot every bullet she had left into its disgusting flesh. The bullets squelched, and thudded, crystal cracked, and bone splintered until there was little left that was recognizable. Breathing frantically she gave it more gas and drove over the broken carcass. She braced herself against the steering as her stomach lurched at the crunch. “Keep it together bitch. Just get to the fucking top!”

Glancing behind her didn’t help matters. It was a damn bloodbath. People she's come to think of as family were falling all around her, but this is what they signed up for. Rebekah wiped the tears and snot on her sleeve and tried to focus. She couldn’t afford to break down now. She volunteered for this run. They all did. It is imperative she arrive at the top in time. The last of the Templars chasing her were taken down by the reinforcements and the Dragon had appeared like a malicious omen above them. She glared at it with complete hatred. Parking with little finesse, sliding through the muck, she clambered off. The Dragon was getting ready for another strafing run of Haven. Rebekah tore the tarp off her trailer with a maniacal grin; revealing a fucking surface to air missle launcher.

An FIM-92 Stinger Man-PAD to be exact. They only had two left. There had been four of them to start. The other two had been spent during a live fire training exercise six months prior to the Breach opening up at this end. They used a high dragon as target practice. Of all the volunteers only _she_ had been meticulous enough to pass the grueling training regimen. With no computer communications, radar, or way to recharge a laser guided system; THIS was the one they had calculated was perfect for the job. She took aim with relish.

" ** _Dale, cabrón!_ **" she yelled as the pack began to whine. After an earsplitting boom, and a whoosh, the impressive trail of the missile screamed across the sky. The Dragon spotted the incoming projectile and dove, but to no avail. There was an explosion as it hit, followed by a pop, and the reptile plummeted from the sky and lay in a heap near the frozen lake.

*****

When the shaken Herald finally confronted the injured Corypheus his party was not alone. Bloody, but alive, a half dozen Earthlings encircled the would be God, guns drawn, and demanded he drop the Orb. Gina, who had impressively rappelled down the Chantry statue, arrived just as he began grandstanding. Hard to do when you’re pinned down by steel cables. The ebony skinned woman was tall, nearly seven foot, with a gruesome scar on her face that revealed a portion of her pearly white teeth. Squelching her walkie she asked aloud, “Status on the **_Horcrux_ ** over?”

Everyone was staring at the oddly clad strangers with their even stranger equipment. She was wearing standard night camouflage. Solas was glaring, his eyes never leaving the Orb, when his head whipped around as a disembodied voice responded. Rebekah spoke over the walkie loud and clear. "It’s dead as a, uh ... well it's fucking dead, ok?" Automatic gunfire resounded from the distance. “Yup. Definitely dead.”

Gina lifted her snub nosed Smith & Wesson as though this were a typical afternoon jaunt and gave Coreypheus a bullet between the eyes mid angry monologue. Everyone, besides the Earthlings, jumped, covering their ears and wincing, from the piercingly loud discharge. Pressing the walkie again she called out loudly for everyone in the vicinity to hear. “Ding, dong, the bitch is dead. Good job everyone. Muster in the training yard. All units report A.S.A.P. for roll call and phase three. Bring all our injured … including Inquisition.” She bent to retrieve the corrupted Orb and turned to the gaping Herald. “I’m keeping this for now. Try to take it by force and we’ll blow you _primitives_ a new asshole.”

Knight-Captain Rylen stepped toward her to argue and every gun trained on him immediately, the click of weaponry being readied causing him to halt.

“Try it again and your buddies won’t be able to find all your pieces,” Steve growled from atop the Trebuchet. Rylen swallowed, and glared at the man he had called a friend only a few hours ago. The Inquisition was in shambles. Fully half of their officers had been planted, and though they had fought side by side against the Red Templars, were clearly from an unknown faction. Some had dropped their personas completely, becoming different people entirely, once the battle had begun. The Iron Bull shook his head angrily, but sheathed his enormous weapon without a fuss. He hadn’t seen this coming. No one had. Many of the meek civilian workers had proved to be deadly efficient killers; pulling advanced weaponry from their skirts and from behind work tables without batting an eye. A full third of the laundresses, most of the medics, and even the cooks had shown their true colors this night.

“I suggest we do as the dangerous lady says,” Varric said diplomatically. “I assume we’re about to get some sort of explanation?” He looked around at the murderous company warily. You could almost see him weighing the odds of their survival against this new threat. “I hope.”

Every Earther suddenly smiled warmly at the dwarf. A couple audaciously threw him winks. Even Gina couldn’t help relaxing around him. Their behavior only further baffled everyone but they were riding high on their success and couldn’t be bothered to hide how they felt towards the beloved author. “Master Tethras,” Gina said grinning, a disturbing occurrence considering the way her grotesque scars stretched, “Have we got a _story_ for _you_.”  


[](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QYuIu_hC7gNdxhJ7u_pPr1O2FllYqfu0/view?usp=sharing&usp=embed_facebook&source=ctrlq.org)

**Author's Note:**

> I do not plan on continuing this work at this time. What you see is what you get. I am currently, actively, writing over 8 different fics. Most of which have not been posted and will not be posted until they are completed. At some point I have to draw a line!>/p>
> 
> I'm only one woman!!! XD


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